Everything has a price
by HuddyJibbsAddict
Summary: Season 7 "Jet Lag" revisited. What if Ziva had made a shocking discovery in Paris? Jibbs, Post JD, AU set in season 6, completely different from my other stories.
1. Prologue: Dreamland

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS and its characters, if I did I would be much happier, they're all D.P Bellisario's.

My heart goes out to the US East coasters, I hope you will be alright and that Hurricane Irene will leave you alone.

A/N: I know, I know, another one but as it's usually the case it wouldn't leave my head and I decided to share it with you.

This one has absolutely nothing to do with the Implicit rule/Train wreck universe.

The prologue and the next two chapters are introductory, setting the context and giving you some answers to understand what the hell is going on.

It's post JD, just after the end of the whole mess with Agent Lee. Hope you enjoy ;-D.

* * *

><p><span>Prologue: Dreamland<span>

* * *

><p><strong>January 27<strong>**th****, 2009 02:00 am**

**American Hospital of Paris, Neuilly-sur-Seine, France**

He was dazed, he didn't know what to do. He couldn't let go of her hand, he couldn't take his eyes off her. He had lost track of time hours ago, as he was watching her sleep. The future was awaiting him, for them when she would wake up, but he couldn't go and meet it just yet. He was afraid if he did, he would be the one to wake up and realize it was all a dream - that he had imagined the whole thing, that there was nothing waiting for him outside that room and that the woman lying on the bed wasn't asleep but dead.

He didn't know what to do. So, for now, he would stay there and watch her sleep, count her breaths and wait for her to wake up. That way, they would meet the future together.

And if it was really a dream, then he didn't want to wake up.

* * *

><p><em>Two months prior<em>

**November 25****th****, 2008 1:00 pm**

**Avenue des Champs Elysées, 8e arrondissement, Paris, France**

Former Mossad Officer Ziva David had learned very early to rely on her instincts, her training had only reinforced this. As she was waiting at the terrace of a bistrot for Tony to come back from 'seeing the sights' and finally get their witness to take their plane back to D.C, she could feel something was about to happen, something important. It was in the air. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew.

She would never admit it but she had enjoyed spending time here with Tony. She had been in Paris a few times, and it held both good and bad memories for her. This trip had a particular taste because, right now, she associated Paris with Gibbs and Jenny and thinking about her former partner was painful. Tony's presence had help, even if she knew he had been thinking about it too and was still feeling guilty.

She was lost in thought, watching the people around her without really seeing them, when a woman walked slowly past her. She was talking on the phone in French but the accent was easily detected by Ziva's trained ear. But more than the accent, it was the voice that grabbed her attention. A voice she had heard so many times in the past six years, a voice she could recognize anywhere, whether its owner was talking in English, in French or in Hebrew.

Shocked, she was rooted in place for a moment but then she sprung up and followed the woman. Her own phone was vibrating in her pocket but she ignored it. The hair color was wrong, it was longer than what she remembered but then she had seen her with very different hairstyles over the years. It didn't mean anything and the voice couldn't be a coincidence; only she didn't believe in coincidence.

She put a little more distance between them to be sure the woman wouldn't notice her. She was slower than she had ever seen her be. It was strange. In all the years they had known each other, her American partner had always walked so fast it was sometimes difficult to follow her, even in ten-inches heels. Her eyes widened when she understood that the reason for the slowness was a very pregnant-looking belly. They crossed the street and arrived on the Rue Galilée. Ziva was hearing more clearly what the other woman was saying.

"Je vais bien, je ne fais que des demi-journées maintenant. Je vais me reposer cet après-midi et je serais prête pour ce soir. Ne t'inquiète pas. Oui, à tout à l'heure. Moi aussi," she hung up and entered an apartement building.

Ziva had just enough time to take a few pictures of her before the woman disappeared inside.

Heading back to the bistrot, she dialed an almost forgotten number and waited for her contact to pick up.

"You remember this favor you owned me. Well, I am calling it in. I am sending you some pictures. I need you to find everything you can on the woman, it is really important. Thank you," the conversation was brief and to the point.

Ziva had hoped Tony wouldn't be there yet and wouldn't question her whereabouts but it had been in vain. She lied to him without really lying, telling him she had seen someone she thought she knew. She needed more information before announcing to her team that there was a chance Jenny Shepard wasn't dead.

* * *

><p>Translation:<p>

"I'm fine, I'm only working half-days now. I'm going to rest this afternoon and I will be ready for tonight. Don't worry. Yes, I will see you very soon. Me too."

So what did you think? Please review. I will post the next one Wednesday if you liked this one.


	2. Chapter 1: Sister Agency

A/N: Since I'm gonna be extra busy tomorrow, you get the next chapter a day early. I loved the response to the prologue, I hope this new one doesn't disappoint.

I realized I forgot to thank a very important person in the previous one: the amazing JibbsGal1 who helps me and supports me more than I can say. :-D

Thanks for reading, alerting, favoriting and THANKS SO MUCH to left my heart, SherlockXHolmes23, JibbsShipper, Tony and Ziva forever and jstapny for their reviews.

As promised some answers and more questions, enjoy :-D

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 1: Sister Agency<span>

* * *

><p><strong>November 28<strong>**th****, 2008 8:00 am**

**NCIS Headquarters, Navy Yard, Washington D.C, United States**

It had been almost three days and Ziva was waiting impatiently for some news from her contact in Paris. She couldn't shake out of her head the images of this Jenny look-alike. Sometimes she was sure it was her but, at other moments, she had doubts; she needed some certainty, she needed to know.

A courier put her out of her thoughts and gave her a large brown envelope; there was no return address but she recognized the handwriting. Pulling the photos and the notes out, she studied them carefully. She didn't know whether to be relieved and happy or not when she got the confirmation that the woman she had followed was indeed Jenny Shepard.

Sighing, she stood up and approached Gibbs' desk. Her Boss looked up briefly at her and settled his gaze on the folder she was holding. She gave it to him without saying a word.

She watched him closely as he looked at the pictures. Confusion then shock and disbelief settled on his face as he realized what he was looking at. She saw him trace a line on one of the pictures; one where Jenny's pregnant belly was clearly visible. Then, he raised his head sharply and looked at her. She was sure he was about to yell at her but Director Vance chose that moment to call them from the catwalk.

"Agent Gibbs, I want you, your team, Miss Sciuto, Doctor Mallard and Mr. Palmer, up in my office right now." The tone was serious and wasn't leaving any room for a discussion.

McGee called the lab and the autopsy suite since Gibbs was still in a staring contest with Ziva and didn't seem to have heard the Director.

It took the bubbly Goth's arrival to break the eye contact and Ziva rapidly put the photos out of sight.

The whole team could see that something was really wrong but they didn't dare to ask and followed Gibbs in silence.

They entered the Director's office and Vance didn't lose time with pleasantries.

"I just got a call from the CIA Director. He is asking for NCIS' assistance in a murder investigation of a Marine First Sergeant, working for the US Embassy, in Paris. This investigation could help wrap up an operation they're running, codename Lady Macbeth. He didn't tell me much more. You will be read in by CIA Agent Monica Stones, who is in charge of the op," he announced, giving them the picture of a blonde woman in her late thirties.

"We're going back to Paris?" Tony summed up; apparently it was the only thing he had retained from the speech and it earned him an headslap.

"Yes, Agent DiNozzo, you're going back to Paris and, this time, the whole team is coming too. SecNav is loaning you his jet. You're taking off in 45 minutes. The CIA Director also told me that Officer David should destroy the folder she received this morning. Is there something we should know?" Vance added, turning towards Ziva, not missing the look she and Gibbs exchanged.

"No, there is not, Director," Ziva answered and followed Gibbs, who was storming out of the room.

She entered the elevator just as the doors were closing. Gibbs waited for it to start its descent before flipping the switch.

"I saw her in Paris, well, I was not sure it was her. She walked past me when I was waiting for Tony. She was talking on the phone; I heard her voice and I followed her. I could not believe it! I took some pictures and I called an old friend at the Israeli Embassy, asked him to watch her, gather some information so I could be sure. They probably noticed him," Ziva explained, starring straight in front of her.

"You think she is working with the CIA," Gibbs stated.

"Well, they called the operation 'Lady Macbeth' and we do not believe in coincidence, do we?" Ziva replied.

Gibbs nodded and put the elevator back in motion.

"Gibbs …" Ziva started.

"Don't, Ziva, don't," Gibbs cut her off and the Israeli nodded.

Not wanting to put Gibbs in an even worse mood, the team sped up to pack their luggage and be at the airport in time. They didn't know what was going on between the Boss and Ziva but it was bad and seemed to have something to do with their trip. Tony had tried to extort something from Ziva but she had threatened him with castration and they could see she was serious.

The seven-and-a-half-hour trip was punctuated by Ducky's stories; Gibbs stayed away from the group, and even Abby didn't try to reach out to him.

* * *

><p><strong>November 28<strong>**th****, 2008 11:00 pm (Paris time)**

**United States Ambassador to France's residence, rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, Paris, France**

As they exited Paris-Charles de Gaulle Airport, they found Agent Monica Stones leaning against a car, three stern looking men-in-black around her.

"Agent Stones," Gibbs greeted, shaking her hand.

"Agent Gibbs, thank you for coming so swiftly. I know all of this is a little cryptic but I assure you will receive all the necessary information. We're going to set you up at the Ambassador's residence; it's secure enough. I know you all probably want to rest but I really want to read you in as fast as possible, it's extremely important," the CIA Agent announced as the men who had accompanied her took their luggage.

They hopped in a Cadillac limousine and drove towards their destination.

Among the group, only Abby, McGee and Palmer had never been to Paris; they were fascinated by the city.

"I understand better why they call Paris the City of Lights," McGee exclaimed as they entered Paris by the Porte de Maillot and went up the Avenue de la Grande Armée towards the Arc de Triomphe.

"If you want to really discover Paris, you should always do it by night," Agent Stones said, smiling at the young agents' enthusiasm.

"Won't we see the Avenue des Champs-Elysées?" Abby asked, her face almost glued to the car's window.

"Not today, I'm afraid, but don't worry. You can't leave Paris without having seen the most beautiful avenue of the world," Monica reassured them.

Finally, they arrived at the Hotel de Pontalba, where the US Ambassador to France lived.

"My colleagues are going to take care of your luggage, please follow me," Stones said as she led them to a conference room and gave them copies of a file. Indicating the first photo in the file, she explained.

"Marine First Sergeant Franck Driscoll, 45 years old, head of Security at the U.S. Embassy in Paris since 2007; married to a French woman for 10 years, no children. He was found dead early this morning in the Bois de Boulogne, which you may know is …" Stones started before being interrupted by Ducky.

"One of Paris' red-light districts," he completed for her.

"Exactly. We have been watching Driscoll for a while because his wife's brother has ties to an organization we've been trying to infiltrate for years. Until about six months ago, we were unsuccessful. This man," she said, showing them another photo, "is a jeweler and incidentally the leader of a very prolific crime organization that deals with pretty much everything from weapons to drugs to kidnapping. We know him as John Smith; several times over the years, we send agents undercover but we never got anywhere. In May, this year, we got Intel he was spending some time in a spa town on the French Riviera. There he met this woman," she showed them another photo and elicited gasps from most of the team's members.

"Jennifer," Ducky whispered.

"Former Director Shepard and Smith got … close, during their stay," she hesitated slightly at that, and Gibbs' stomach twisted at the implication.

"I informed my Director of this unexpected development and, when Jenny returned in D.C, he offered her a deal that she couldn't refuse." Again, there was a slight hesitation and something that sounded like disapproval. "She was about to resign when she went to L.A…"

"We know what happened there," Tony interrupted her, not really wanting to relive that particular week.

"Apparently not. In L.A, she called us and told us someone was after her. It was the perfect occasion for us so we prepared what we had to, to stage the scene. It made us lose some time and we arrived almost too late. When we found her, she had a bullet in the arm, another in the shoulder - she had lost a lot of blood but she was still alive. At the hospital, the doctors informed us of her pregnancy, which was both perfect and problematic. We were making her take a huge risk but she accepted, wanting to continue. She found Smith in Paris, or rather he let her find him and since then she's in," Stones carried on.

"So, basically, you're telling us she is alive and pregnant?" Tony asked in disbelief.

"Yes, she is about to enter her eighth month," Stones answered and Gibbs paled slightly as he did the math.

"What's her cover?" Ziva asked, trying to get everyone back on track.

"Wait a minute," Abby said, turning towards Ziva. "Why aren't you surprised or shocked to hear about this? Did you know? Is that what Vance was talking about?"

Ziva sighed and nodded. "When Tony and I were in Paris earlier this week, I saw her and I asked a friend to tell me more about what was going on."

"You should be glad she did because that's the only reason we chose your team," Stones said before an argument erupted.

"You have to understand that this op is extremely risky for Jenny. She gave us a lot of information about Smith and his business and we hoped we would have enough to get her out of this before she gave birth. We were waiting for a gathering, to arrest as many as possible but it seems to be compromised. We need you to solve this murder. We have every reason to believe Smith killed Driscoll or ordered his murder. It seems they tried to recruit him and he refused; or maybe, it's about jealousy. Driscoll and Jenny became friends; Smith, being extremely possessive with her, may have felt threatened. Anyway, if you can prove Smith's involvement, then it's over and Jenny will be able to go home," Stones informed them and Gibbs' blood ran cold as a sudden thought struck him.

"What makes you think he won't kill her too if he suspects an affair?" he questioned.

"Smith has a very precise code of conduct about women. He idealizes them, he is never violent towards women in words or in action. We know that, when some members of his crew were accused of violence on women, he dealt with the guys and it wasn't pretty. No matter what, he won't do anything to Jenny. He won't kill the mother of his child, he cares too much about her," Stones was adamant. Gibbs should have been relieved but he wasn't.

"Does she know about Driscoll?" he asked.

"Not yet, I will inform her tomorrow. To answer your question," she said turning towards Ziva, "We kept the name she used at the spa town, Gwendolyn Stafford, Gwen. She works at the United States Embassy in Paris, American mother, her father was an English diplomat, both dead. She spent a lot of time traveling all around the world and asked recently for her transfer to Paris because of a painful divorce. That's how she justified the bullet wounds: attempted murder by her ex-husband. We had to be very specific; Smith is extremely wary and we know he ran a thorough background check on her," Stones explained.

"Rule number seven," Gibbs mumbled.

"Always be specific when you lie," the team replied immediately making Monica Stones raise her eyebrows.

"It should be interesting to work with you," she smirked. "One of my team is a liaison at the Brigade criminelle, who is in charge of the investigation until you take over. They're waiting for you tomorrow morning so I suggest you get some rest."

"Will we see her?" Abby asked and Monica bit her lip.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea…" she started.

"We're gonna have to interview Driscoll's coworkers. If we don't talk to her, it's gonna raise suspicions," Gibbs replied and the CIA agent studied him for a moment and nodded.

"Very well, I will see what I can do."

The team stood up and headed towards the door.

"Agent Gibbs!" Monica called after him and he stopped but without turning back to her. "I read Jenny's file. I know the two of you were partners, that you worked together here, in Paris. Don't screw this up. If Smith isn't the one who killed this Marine, we can't blow her cover."

Gibbs left the room without answering and without looking back.

He shared a room with Ducky; Abby and Ziva were staying together; Tony, McGee and Palmer were in a third room.

As they were getting ready for the night, Ducky asked Gibbs a question he had been dreading.

"Jethro, what exactly happened between you and Jennifer seven months ago?"

* * *

><p>AN: What did you think? Please review, I love to hear your thoughts.


	3. Chapter 2: Fire

A/N: I'm back at school, I will try to update each of my stories once a week, I hope I will be able to.

THANKS so much to everyone who read, alert and favorite this story, and especially to left my heart in paris, She-Demon Sparacino, SherlockXHolmes23, Prettycrazy, Tony and Ziva forever and jstapny for their amazing reviews.

For those who read my other stories, I will handle the whole La Grenouille thing completely differently, as you will see in this chapter.

Spoilers for 5x14 Internal Affairs.

You've all been waiting for this ... :-D

* * *

><p>This chapter is written from Gibbs' point of view. To illustrate Jen's, you can listen to Kelly Clarkson's 'My life would s**k without you':<p>

_Guess this means you're sorry._

_You're standing at my door._

_Guess this means you take back all you said before._

_Like how much you wanted anyone but me._

_Said you'd never come back but here you are again._

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 2: Fire<span>

* * *

><p>As they were getting ready for the night, Ducky asked Gibbs a question he had been dreading.<p>

"Jethro, what exactly happened between you and Jennifer seven months ago?"

Gibbs closed his eyes as he was remembering that night.

_If he had been more sober and less angry, he would have thought twice before hopping in his car and heading towards Jen's house but he was far past thinking rationally._

_It was nearing midnight but there was still light inside; she was probably putting everything back in order after the FBI's search. Gibbs parked and nodded at her detail. Not wanting to give her the chance to prevent him from entering, he picked the lock. He started looking for her downstairs but she had already deserted the study. He let the noises guide him to her bedroom and found her packing a suitcase._

_He knew she had felt his presence when he saw her tense up._

_"I thought everything had been said," she greeted, without facing him._

_"I never got a straight answer," he replied, his voice low and hoarse. "Going somewhere nice?" he asked as she was still focused on her luggage._

_"I haven't decided yet. I will probably take the first plane to a destination which sounds good," she said. _

_The lack of eye contact prevented him from knowing for sure if she was lying but he was pretty certain she was. The reason why she wouldn't want him to know where she was going was a mystery._

_"I hope you're not going with anyone. They would be in for a surprise, you can't be trusted in an airport," he spat bitterly._

_"Maybe it was just for you," Jen countered. "If you came all the way here for that, you should leave, now."_

_"I told you, I never got a straight answer," he repeated._

_"Why is it so important to you? Why do you need to know so badly if I killed him or not?" she asked, turning towards him for the first time that night._

_"You think I should let it go? You think I should just let you get away with murder?" he asked incredulously and was taken aback when she laughed._

_"Look who's talking! You are such an hypocrite! Do you think I don't know that you, the irreproachable Marine and NCIS agent, got away with murder? When I showed Ducky the case file of the investigation on your wife and daughter's murders, he told me I could close it, that you would pursue their killer to hell and back, and he was right. I looked into it; seventeen years ago you were under investigation by Military Police. They were suspecting you of having killed Pedro Hernandez. Eventually all charges were dropped, not enough evidence, but it was you, wasn't it? You killed him just as he killed them. So don't you dare talk to me like that, like you did me some kind of favor by getting the FBI off my back," she shouted at him, her packing completely forgotten. _

_"Tell me, why should I give you the answer you're craving so much? So you can use it against me? Or because I'm supposed to trust you? Why?" she added._

_He was stunned; he hadn't expected this. She had known about this for quite a while and she had never told him, had never confronted him about it, even now it was only because he had pushed her to it. _

_"Leave, now," she told him, crossing her arms under her chest, putting up her defenses. There was no desk between them this time, and she seemed to need to put some distance between them._

_"No. You've known this for quite some time, why are you throwing this at me only now?"_

_"Because I didn't think you would dare to call me on this. I was wrong," she answered bitterly._

_"My family was murdered, I knew who was responsible, I did what I had to. I don't regret it," Gibbs replied._

_"Neither do I. Why do you make it sound like what I did is any different from what you did?" she remarked._

_"Because your father killed himself. Even if it's hard for you to accept it, it doesn't make it less true," Gibbs retorted and he saw her eyes flash with anger._

_"You didn't know my father. You don't know what kind of man he was; he would have never done it. Benoit is responsible for his death one way or another. And if we follow your logic, Pedro Hernandez didn't kill them either; he shot their driver, not them," Jenny yelled at him._

_Hearing this, he closed the distance between them and seized her arms, so hard he would probably leave bruises, but he didn't care._

_"You …" he started angrily but she cut him off._

_"See, it's not pleasant, is it? Don't make it like what I lived is less important or less painful than what you lived. I found my father's body in this house, in the study; he was all I had left. For months, I wasn't able to set foot inside this place. My father may have done things he shouldn't have but he didn't deserve to die. I respect your grief, your pain; respect mine," she spat at him and, the moment she finished talking, his lips were on hers, bruising them too._

_He circled her waist with one arm and tangled the other in her hair, bringing them as close as physically possible. A moan escaped her as he deepened the kiss. She pushed his jacket off his shoulder, letting it fall on the floor and she put her hand on his back, under his shirt and undershirt, scratching it, making him groan._

_He retaliated by ending the kiss and biting at the pulse at the base of her neck, enough to leave a mark. She busied herself with his belt and when he felt her play with the buttons of his pants, he swatted her hands away and pushed her on the bed, sending piles of clothes on the floor._

_He helped her off her shirt and she returned the favor. He attacked the flesh of her chest eagerly and kissed his way to her waist. He tugged her pants and panties off her, leaving her completely naked under him. He wanted to admire her for a moment; her hair spread out over the pillow, her bruised lips, the mark already forming on her neck, her chest flushed and heaving; but she must have mistaken it for hesitation and she took back control, divesting him of his pants and boxers._

_From there it was a battle for dominance that left them both marked and bruised. He was sure Jenny would have his handprints on her hips for days. Each touch had set alight a fire he wasn't sure had ever stopped burning. She fell asleep soon after they came apart together but he didn't. _

_He observed her for a while; for a moment he had felt like he had gotten back his Jen, the passionate one, the one who had completed him so well when they were working together. The one he had trusted his life with on so many occasions and who had never disappointed him. The one who could lighten him up by her mere presence, just looking at her and knowing she was his was enough to make him smile proudly. _

_However, it was an illusion. His Jen wasn't there anymore, she had changed so much that sometimes he didn't recognize her; her job, her vengeance had swallowed her up and taken away everything he loved in her. _

_He couldn't stay there, so, silently, to not wake her up, he dressed and left without looking back._

_On the way to his house, he was already regretting his decision but it was too late. When he went back to her place, a few hours later, she was already gone._

"Nothing happened, Duck," he answered his old friend, and he could see that the ME didn't believe him at all.

"Don't lie to me, Jethro. I saw your reaction when Agent Stones told us Jennifer is seven months pregnant. Is there a chance that this arms dealer is not the father of her child?" Ducky tried again and watched his friend close his eyes at the thought, nod and finally answer.

"There is a chance, Duck, there is a chance."

* * *

><p>This is the last introductory chapter, Jen will reappear in the next one :-D<p> 


	4. Chapter 3: Lady Macbeth

A/N: It's been so long, I'm so sorry. I hope you're still interested in this story.

Thanks to all those who read, alert, favorite this story and a huge thanks to left my heart in paris, Prettycrazy, pbfn242751, NCIS She-Demon (don't worry, I didn't forget about your story, I will read and review it as soon as possible :-D) and jstapny for their wonderful reviews.

Some quick info so you understand this chapter a little better:

La Brigade criminelle (loosely translated as Crime squad) is composed of about a hundred people who investigate homicides, kidnappings, arsons, terrorist attacks, bombing... in the Paris area.

L'institut médico-légal de Paris is a morgue who depends of the Prefecture of Police and where autopsies can be realised.

Le Laboratoire de police scientifique de Paris is one of the six labs in France that realise scientific analysis for the Police, the Gendarmerie ... I'm sure Abby feels comfortable in it. :-D

Here is what you were waiting for, sort of :-)

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3: Lady Macbeth<span>

* * *

><p><strong>November 29<strong>**th****, 2008 1:00 pm**

**United States' Embassy, Avenue Gabriel, Paris, France**

As they were entering the Embassy, Gibbs could think of only one thing - that soon he would be seeing Jenny again and would know with absolute certainty that she was alive and well -_and probably pregnant with his child_. He fought that particular thought; he didn't want to think about it for now. He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid it for long but right now, all that mattered to him was to be sure that Jenny was okay.

Breakfast had been tense, to say the least. No one had gotten much sleep and it showed; Abby's eyes were red and puffy, Ziva and Tony's faces were bleak, McGee and Palmer seemed completely bewildered - only Ducky and himself had appeared to be unaffected but you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

Agent Stones had already left, leaving them only a message to join her at the Embassy at 1 pm so they could talk to the employees - and to Jenny. One of the men who had been at the airport to welcome them the day before had offered to drive them to the Brigade criminelle at the 36 Quai des Orfèvres, on l'Île de la Cité, so they could take over the case, review the evidence and start the autopsy.

It had been the longest 10-minute drive in Gibbs' whole life. Everywhere he had looked, he had remembered something of his mission with Jenny, almost 10 years prior, as they were impersonating a couple of tourists. Holding hands in the Jardin des Tuileries, spending hours waiting before entering the Musée du Louvre, kissing on the Pont des Arts, hearing for the first time Jenny saying she loved him, being stupid enough not to say it back; everything had hit him hard and he had been the first to get out of the car as they had reached their destination.

A member of Stones' team, CIA Agent Samuel Drake, had been waiting for them. Acting as a liaison between the French Police and Interpol, he had been appointed to help NCIS in their investigation.

He had given them more information on John Smith, Franck Driscoll, their victim, and his brother-in-law, their main suspect, Arnaud Richard.

A 47-year-old American-French citizen, John Smith had dozens of aliases they had tracked down thanks to Jenny's information. They could tie him to several transactions with various terrorists groups and they knew that he used - apart from his cover as a jeweler - drugs and kidnapping of high profile targets to fund his organization. However, they had never been able to catch him red-handed.

About his background, they knew next to nothing; they just had some suspicions he might be the son of a dealer who was selling weapons to the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War.

Franck Driscoll had been on the CIA's radar ever since he married Michelle Richard, an employee in Smith's jewelry store. Her brother, Arnaud Richard, was a little drug dealer who had been arrested - and did some time - when he was 18 years old for possession. Until he met Smith, Richard was no big fish. However, since Michelle introduced her brother to her boss, Smith put Richard in charge of the drug department in his organization and sent him on various trips to Panama, Columbia, Mexico, Thailand and others. The CIA's guess was that Smith and Richard had tried to convince the latter's brother-in-law to work for them, so they could have a well-placed informant but Driscoll, who was an honorable Marine with a Bronze Star and an impeccable record, refused and got killed since he knew too much.

Gibbs had sent Abby and McGee to the Laboratoire de Police scientifique, on the other side of the island - so they could start to work on the evidence found at the scene - and Tony, Ducky and Palmer at the Institut medico-légal, a few minutes away, so the medical examiner could start the autopsy. He had stayed with Ziva to interview Michelle Richard.

They hadn't learned much from her. She had stayed at the jewelry store until 11 pm, working on an important transaction. Then she had gone straight home, was too tired to do anything other than take her sleeping pills and fell on the bed. She hadn't been worried not to see her husband home since he used to work late. In the morning, however, having not heard from him, she had called the Embassy who had told her Franck had left at 9 pm and asked for a day off. She had been about to call the police when someone knocked on her door and she found two police officers who announced to her that her husband was dead.

The woman looked pretty shocked by what happened, genuinely grieving and nothing in her demeanor set off Gibbs' or Ziva's radar.

They had let her go, implying that they wanted her to stay nearby for the time being.

Then, they had joined Abby and McGee at the lab. A 7.65 Browning cartridge, several footprints and some blood on the victim's ring had been found. They didn't have a match on the blood yet but Abby had determined that it was a male individual. She had also identified the model of the murder weapon, a CZ vz. 27, a semi-automatic pistol, historically used by the Czechoslovakia police and military. She was running a search to find out similar cases with the same type of gun.

Ducky and Palmer were hands deep in their autopsy, literally, and the M.E had sent Tony back to them.

So now, here they were, about to have one of the most important meeting of their lives and still feeling like they would wake up at any moment or hear 'April Fools.'

"Where is Gwen?" Stones was asking as they entered the conference room.

"She must be waddling somewhere, waiting for Boyfriend Extraordinaire," a man answered, laughing at his own joke while the women in the room sent him disgusted glares.

"I resent that. I don't waddle, and I'll have you know that my belly is smaller than yours." Gibbs felt his heart stop as he heard Jenny, her throaty alto voice washed over him and made him shiver.

She chose a seat as far away from them as possible but she didn't give any reaction at the sight of them.

The pregnancy suited her - that was the first thought that crossed Gibbs' mind once the shock wore off. She was glowing, she looked healthy, her hair had grown back and she had dyed it black. She was wearing a grey sweater dress, black boots and her belly was emphasized by a red belly band. Yes, pregnancy really suited her.

Gibbs didn't listen to a word Stones told the Embassy employees. He was so busy watching Jenny and engraving her image in his mind that Abby had to elbow him as the CIA agent stopped talking and waited for him to give the instructions.

The team separated in three: Gibbs would conduct interviews with McGee, so would Tony with Ziva and Abby would take the DNA samples of the willing ones.

Since Jenny was doing half-days and had worked in the morning, she was the first one to be interviewed. Gibbs and McGee were about to follow her into one of the rooms that were at their disposal when Monica beat them to it.

"I think we didn't understand each other. You're not interrogating her, I am. There is no way I will take the risk that you might ask about more than you're allowed to. I do the talking, you watch from there," she said, indicating what looked like an observation room. "That's not negotiable," and with that she slammed the door in his face.

Furious, he entered the observation room, leaving a bewildered McGee behind.

"What the hell is going on?" Jenny asked in her 'don't mess with me' Director's tone, as soon as Stones entered the room.

"Sit down, Gwen," the CIA agent told her softly, making Jenny raise her eyebrows. "Please," Monica added and the former NCIS Director relented.

"There is no easy way to say this. Franck Driscoll is dead."

Jenny's eyes widened, and she looked like she had been slapped in the face. "Oh my God! What happened?"

"He was murdered, in the Bois de Boulogne, probably during the night of the 27th to the 28th. I'm sorry, Gwen," Monica added in a soft voice, covering one of Jenny's hands with hers.

"You don't think John…" Jenny trailed off.

"Yes, we do. He was out of town for a week, wasn't he? He came back yesterday morning. Did you notice anything about his behavior?" Stones inquired and Jenny avoided her gaze and shifted uncomfortably.

"He wasn't exactly interested in talking yesterday, and I had to leave early this morning," she admitted in a low voice and Gibbs' fists clenched at the thought of what she was implying.

"There wasn't any trace on his clothes, anything that could help us?"

The look Jenny sent Monica was clear enough to make them understand that she had no idea what kind of clothes John Smith was wearing when he came back to their apartment.

Monica winced slightly and glanced sideways towards the one-way mirror. She cleared her throat before continuing.

"When did you last see Frank?"

"The day before yesterday, we had lunch together. Before you ask, no, he didn't seem preoccupied, he didn't say anything about death threats or anything like that. He wanted to surprise his wife for her birthday. I don't know what happened after that," Jenny seemed angry with herself as she said it.

Agent Stones nodded. "If you discover anything…"

"You will be the first to know," Jen answered and stood up, heading towards the door, which Monica opened for her.

Gibbs quickly left the observation room and, as Jenny left the room, she collided with his chest. She took a step back and her hand went right to her bump, which didn't go unnoticed by Gibbs. They locked eyes with each other, apparently unable to say a word. After a few moments, she tore her eyes away from his and walked away as fast as she could.

Before Gibbs could even think of going after her, Stones stood in his path.

"You should go back to work." He had no doubt that she wouldn't hesitate to shoot him if he didn't.

* * *

><p><strong>November 29<strong>**th****, 2008 7:00 pm**

**Rue Galilée, 8e arrondissement, Paris, France**

That evening, Jenny was looking out the living room window towards the Arc de Triomphe, slowly caressing her belly to calm the baby who was on a kicking frenzy.

She couldn't stop thinking about her encounter with Gibbs. No words had been exchanged, just a look; one single, intense look which had conveyed more than any speech could have. The hurt, the anger, the concern and something else she hadn't wanted to decipher; all those emotions were so strong that she hadn't been able to stand it for long, she had had to flee and she knew she could count on Monica to stop Jethro from following her.

Two strong arms wrapping themselves around her put an end to her musings. She leaned against John, feeling his hands replacing hers over her abdomen and his kisses on her neck.

In the past few months, she had gotten so used to the intimacy between them that, sometimes, she had some difficulty remembering this was not real, at least that it was not supposed to be. She had been starving for this kind of connection with someone for so long, she had been devastated to find out who John Smith really was.

Those two weeks they spent together at the SPA had been like a ray of sunshine in the stormy sky her life had become, and, after the way things had turned out with Jethro, she had needed it more than ever, even if she had been living someone else's life. It had felt like a blow right to the stomach when she had found the CIA on her doorstep and heard their report.

She never would have accepted this mission without the CIA's threats, and she would have never wanted to see John again without the CIA's threats. But they hadn't left her any choice, and the news of her pregnancy didn't change that.

Until now she had been in control, but with Jethro's reappearance she didn't know what would happen.

At this last thought, the baby kicked again and John drew her to their bedroom.

* * *

><p>At the same moment, Gibbs too was looking out of the window in the room he shared with Ducky. His old friend had turned the radio on and was currently lying on his bed, reading, slowly falling asleep.<p>

Gibbs, once again, couldn't sleep and he didn't have any boat to take out his frustration on. The contact with Jenny had been so brief, so fleeting, and yet, it had been enough for him to feel one of the baby's kicks right against his own stomach. He wasn't sure Jenny had noticed it but he had and he couldn't stop thinking about it. He hadn't wanted to, he hadn't wanted this possibility to interfere with everything else but he had been kidding himself. A single look, a fleeting touch and he was falling again, not really sure now that he had ever ceased.

A new song was playing on the radio, and he bitterly noticed that the lyrics fitted them perfectly. It wasn't helping him at all.

_You could be happy and I won't know_

_But you weren't happy the day I watched you go._

_And all the things I wished I had not said_

_Are played in loops 'till it's madness in my head._

_Is it too late to remind you how we were?_

_But not our last days of silence, screaming, blur_

_Most of what I remember makes me sure_

_I should have stopped you from walking out the door._

* * *

><p>AN: "You could be happy" by Snow Patrol, I love this song, it's really Jibbs, don't you think?_  
><em>


	5. Chapter 4: Past, present, future

A/N: I have already broken Rule #6 a few times lately so one more won't kill me. I'm so sorry for taking so long to update, I hope you'll forgive me and that you're still interested in this story. Thanks to everyone who read, favorited and alerted this story.

A special thank you to paris-eternellement, teardrops of ink, Miss Jayne, ladybugsmomma, Penny Shepard, jstapny, Kari-Kateora, left my heart in paris, Prettycrazy, Sparky She-Demon and BritMonkey for their wonderful reviews.

To JibbsLover (anonymous reviewer): Thank you so much for your review, I'm really glad you're so enthusiastic about this story, I hope this new chapter was worth the wait.

Shoutout to JibbsGal1, my beta, for all her work :-)

This chapter was written under the influence of Full of Grace by Sarah McLachlan:

_The winter here's cold and bitter_

_It's chilled us to the bone_

_We haven't seen the sun for weeks_

_To long too far from home_

_I feel just like I'm sinking_

_And I claw for solid ground_

_I'm pulled down by the undertow_

_I never thought I could feel so low _

_Oh darkness I feel like letting go _

_If all of the strength and all of the courage _

_Come and lift me from this place _

_I know I could love you much better than this _

_Full of grace _

_Full of grace _

_My love _

_So it's better this way, I said _

_Having seen this place before _

_Where everything we said and did _

_Hurts us all the more _

_It's just that we stayed, too long _

_In the same old sickly skin _

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4: Past, present, future<span>

* * *

><p><strong>November 30th, 2008 9:00 am<strong>

**Rue Galilée, 8e arrondissement, Paris, France**

_She wasn't drunk yet, but she was definitely getting there. She had arrived at the spa resort just a few hours ago and the bar was already her favorite place. She had already tried several of their cocktails and was currently asking for pretty much everything except bourbon and scotch. It would have reminded her too much of what she was trying to flee from. _

_She had no idea how she had gotten to that point. She had been slowly getting her life back under control, but it had taken just an FBI investigation to shatter it again and, with it, the trust of Jethro's team, which she had worked so hard on rebuilding. She sighed, her thoughts always fatally went back to Jethro no matter how much she tried to avoid it. Their little encounter before her departure had been so unexpected that, when she woke up alone in her bed, she was pretty sure she had imagined it all. But the various marks on her body were very real, and the scent of Jethro on her pillow unmistakable. He had left; probably already regretting it all and knowing that he wouldn't have to face her for two weeks. If that was what he wanted then good, she could live with that. She had done much worse anyway. There was probably some karmic law that said that she deserved it._

_She shook her head; what the hell was she thinking? At that moment, a man approached her. It wasn't the first one tonight, and she had every intention of doing the same thing with him that she with the others - which was to royally ignore him._

_"A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be drinking alone." There wasn't the slightest trace of French accent in his voice. He was the first one tonight who hadn't assumed she was French but that wasn't enough for her to acknowledge him. He didn't seem fazed by it though, he just sat down beside her and ordered a refill for her and some vodka for himself. He stayed there, and for some reason she found his presence oddly comforting - which was ridiculous because she didn't know this man and hadn't said one word to him yet._

_"You're gonna stay there watching me all night?" she asked at last, her voice broken after so many hours without using it._

_"I told you, a beautiful woman like you shouldn't be drinking alone. So until you stop drinking, I'm going to stay right here," he answered, making it sound like the most obvious thing in the world._

_"So you can take advantage of me when I'm too drunk to say no to you?" she asked harshly._

_"I'm hurt you would assume such a thing," he said, smirking. "I'm not that kind of guy. I don't need to take advantage of women for them to say yes."_

_"And very modest too, it seems," she retorted, starting to enjoy the banter more than she should._

_The man shrugged. "I'm just telling it like it is, whether you believe me or not is entirely up to you."_

_She studied him for a while before holding her hand out. "Gwendolyn Stafford," she introduced herself and he surprised her by kissing her hand and staring into her eyes intensely. _

_"Jonathan Smith," he answered finally, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding._

_"It appears I have found a true gentleman. They are so rare these days," Jenny replied and she hoped her voice didn't sound as shaky to him as it did to her own ears._

_"It's true that I don't see many others in this bar. Do you want to go somewhere else?" he murmured, the last part in a conspiratorial tone making Jenny laugh._

_"Oh, you were doing so well," she said. "No, I'm good here. I think I need a few more drinks but thank you for asking."_

_They stayed like that for a few more hours, and Jenny didn't remember the last time she had let her hair down like that and truly laughed and enjoyed herself._

_At last, she got up, already knowing that she would nurse the mother of all hangovers in the morning but not really caring at this point. She stumbled a little, and Jonathan took hold of her elbow and prevented her from falling but bringing her very close to him in the process._

_"You're sure you don't need some help?" he whispered in her ear._

_She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows._

_"I'm just proposing to see you safely to your door, that's all," he said and, even in her drunken state, she could see he was sincere. She nodded, grabbed her purse and started towards the exit. She felt Jonathan's hand at the small of her back and, again, it felt oddly comforting._

_They walked in silence to her room and, once at the door, she hesitated._

_"Thank you for tonight. I haven't had that much fun in a long time. You were much better company than I expected to have," she told him._

_"I return the compliment," Jonathan replied._

_Jenny opened the door and said quietly, "I don't want to be alone tonight." She looked at him straight in the eyes, refusing to feel ashamed by this admission. The alcohol gave her the courage she wasn't sure she would have had otherwise._

_Jonathan looked inside the room and indicated the armchair near the bed. "I can stay in the chair and watch over you if you'd like," he suggested and her surprise must have been showing because he added, "I told you. I don't need to take advantage of women. If you want more when you're sober, then we will see."_

_Jenny smiled at the chivalrous attitude and let him in. She didn't have the strength to change her clothes and she all but fell on the bed as he settled in the armchair. The last thing she remembered, as she blacked out, was holding out her hand for Jonathan to take._

Jenny's eyes snapped open as the baby gave a particularly strong kick aimed directly at her bladder. She looked around and saw that she was alone, but she could hear Jonathan in the kitchen and smelled the breakfast he was preparing. She noticed the rose on the pillow, shook her head and smiled at the gesture. In her previous relationships, she hadn't been used to this kind of daily gestures. Jethro, for example, hadn't showered her with gifts but when he offered her anything it was all the more meaningful.

Since she had met Jonathan, he had taken care of her in every possible way. That first night at the resort back in April, he had stayed with her and when she had woken up, he had put a glass of water and some Tylenol on the bedside table. They spent that day and the following together and she had enjoyed it all the more because she knew there was a time limit. She had a life to go back to, a life where there was no one to do all the little things Jonathan did for her. She was seeing him in a different light since the CIA had told her who he really was but he was still the same caring man she had met at the resort, a man whom she was surprised talked to the baby growing inside her when he thought she was asleep.

She went to the bathroom and then to the kitchen. She leaned against the doorway, observing Jonathan.

"Breakfast is ready, we should hurry a bit if we want to make it to our appointment," Jonathan announced enthusiastically.

"You have to be the most eager expecting father ever, you do realize that? To be in such a hurry to see me go through some pretty uncomfortable exams," Jenny teased, ignoring as always the pang of guilt she felt at the thought that she was not only lying to Jonathan about the paternity but she was also hiding the truth from Jethro, even if she had little doubt that he had figured it out by now.

"Why do you make it sound like it's a bad thing?"Jonathan asked as he approached her.

"It's not a bad thing, it's a fact," Jenny replied.

"It's the last ultrasound, the last time we'll see the baby before he's born. Excuse me if I find it exciting," Jon said, pouting a bit.

Jenny shook her head and smiled fondly. "The last ultrasound if the baby is in the right position. If he isn't, they will have to do another one to check," she explained as she started to dig into her omelet.

It felt good but she knew that the clock was ticking and soon Jon would be out of her life, probably not realizing that the woman whom he had shared so much with was the one who had ultimately betrayed him.

* * *

><p><strong>November 30th, 2008 10:30 am<strong>

**American Hospital of Paris, Neuilly-sur-Seine, France.**

She had been weighed, her blood pressure had been taken, her blood and urine samples had been checked, her cervix had been examined and various other not so pleasant things had been done. Now she was lying on an exam table, watching her Ob-Gyn preparing everything for the ultrasound.

"Are you ready to start?" Doctor Wilkes asked as she approached the machine.

Jenny turned her head towards Jon, who nodded and took her hand in his.

"We're ready," she answered, taking a deep breath.

"It's going to be a bit cold," the doctor said as she squeezed the gel on Jenny's belly. "I'm going to take some measurements, check if this little guy is in the right weight range, check his organs for any abnormalities that could have appeared since the last ultrasound," the doc explained in a calm voice as she allowed the probe to wander. "First with the head, I'm measuring it… you can see his eyes, the nose, the mouth, ah look he is rubbing his eyes. The heart now… let's see if he is going to let me… ah, yes, he is moving a bit, everything looks good with the heart…the kidneys…" Jenny really appreciated how the doctor involved them in the ultrasound, commenting on everything she saw, explaining more if she felt it was needed. She felt Jon squeezing her hand, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him again. It shouldn't be him beside her, watching in awe all of her son's moves. It shouldn't be him. Jenny took a shaky breath and focused back on her doctor's voice.

A tall, thin, brunette woman in her early forties, Doctor Wilkes was an American who had moved to Paris about ten years ago with her husband. Monica had contacted her in June, when Jenny arrived, because she was the only Ob-Gyn around whose father was a former CIA Agent. Even if Wilkes had been a bit reluctant to lie at first, Jenny had appeared to be desperate enough to convince the doc to help her.

After she had checked that everything was where and how it was supposed to be, Doctor Wilkes performed a Doppler, allowing her to see the fluid exchanges between mother and baby. Finally, she printed them pictures of the ultrasound.

"Okay, everything is perfect. The baby is in the right position for the birth. There are no detectable abnormalities; your exams were good. I'm still a bit worried about your blood pressure though. From your auto-measurements, it seems to be stable but it is flirting with the limit. Any added stress lately?" Doctor Wilkes asked Jenny, who shook her head slowly. "Hmm, well you will continue with the auto-measurements and since your maternity leave starts at the end of the week, I suggest you get as much rest as you can, reduce the time you're on your feet and avoid any source of stress. If you see that your blood pressure increases without any explanation, if you notice abnormal swelling in your face, hands and ankles, you contact us right away. There is no sign of preeclampsia at the moment but better safe than sorry."

Both Jenny and Jon nodded gravely. Given the rocky start of her pregnancy, it was nothing short of a miracle that the baby had survived the shooting. She wasn't about to risk his health by ignoring her doctor's advice.

Jon's cellphone suddenly went off and the look on his face told Jenny he had to answer it.

"Pick up, I have to put my clothes back on anyway," Jenny assured him and he left the room.

The doctor was about to shut off the machine when Jenny stopped her.

"Can you print another one? There is someone who needs to see it," she asked. Her doctor nodded and gave her another copy.

Jenny then called Monica. "Hey, it's me. I need to talk to him… I know you don't like that but it's important for me, please… Okay, I'll be there around 2 pm. Thank you Monica."

* * *

><p><strong>November 30th, 2008 2:00 pm<strong>

**United States' Embassy, Avenue Gabriel, Paris, France**

Gibbs was sitting in Monica's office, waiting for Jenny to arrive. His morning hadn't been good. Ducky had thrown him out of the Institut Médico-Légal because he had to run more tests before giving his final report. Then, Abby and McGee too had thrown him out of the lab. The interrogations they had led the day before hadn't given them anything and there wasn't much they could do without solid evidence or else they would run the risk of disrupting the CIA's undercover mission.

When Monica had called him to tell him Jenny wanted to see him, he had been more than a little surprised. The brief moment outside of the interrogation room yesterday had given him the feeling she would try to avoid him like the plague.

He heard her before he saw her. He had always been able to discern her pace, even now without her heels. She entered the office and stood at the threshold, observing him. She could feel the tension radiating from him and knew at once it wasn't going to be easy.

"You look good," she said as she closed the door.

"You don't look too bad yourself, for a dead woman," Gibbs replied.

Jenny sighed. "So, it's going to be like this? I should have known you would resent me for being alive."

Gibbs stood up abruptly at the remark. "You're putting words in my mouth."

Jenny shrugged. "Well, you may have not said it but that's what it sounded like."

"I don't have the right to be a little pissed with the stunt you pulled?" Gibbs asked harshly, glaring at her.

"A stunt? That's what you call it? Nice," she commented, shaking her head. "It's true that it's so much fun to get shot at. In case you hadn't realized, I did almost die. But you probably don't care about that, as busy as you are being angry at me… again," she added, sarcasm dripping from every word she said.

He grumbled under his breath causing Jenny to lean forward a bit. "Excuse me, I didn't quite catch that," she told him.

"I said that I do care," Gibbs repeated louder. "But I'm still pissed that you left like that, without saying anything, letting us believe you were dead. Do you have any idea what it did to the team? What it did to Tony and Ziva to find you like that?"

"Ah, the guilt trip. I was expecting that. That's rich coming from you. Didn't you, a few years ago, leave without telling anyone and stayed out of contact for the better part of your Margarita Safari? Granted, we knew you were alive when you left but after that… You always accuse me of leaving but you're the one who left for Mexico. You're the one who left when I all but threw myself at your feet when Carson was staying at my house. You're the one who left like a thief in the middle of the night after we had sex. You want to guilt trip me fine, but you're not all innocent either," she was out of breath by the time she finished her little tirade and she felt dizzy. She moved past Gibbs and sat down in front of Monica's desk, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths.

Gibbs followed her every movement and then sat down beside her.

"Stress isn't good for me," she answered the question he hadn't asked. This brought attention to the only subject he had been trying to avoid.

"Mazel Tov," he said harshly and she looked up, taken aback by his tone.

"Okay, I have to admit I wasn't expecting this reaction, something maybe a bit more enthusiastic," Jenny replied, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Should I be enthusiastic? " Jethro retorted. "Do you even know who the father is? The guy is convinced he is. He must have pretty good reasons to believe he …" he didn't get to finish, Jenny had slapped him and was getting up so fast she almost fell backwards with the chair, such in a hurry she was to put the maximum distance between them.

"I can't believe you would say something like that! I can understand that you are angry about the situation but this was totally uncalled for. You left in the middle of the night. I didn't think it meant I had to become an hermit. I'm sorry if there was any misunderstanding," she was on the verge of yelling.

"I came back," Gibbs shouted, shutting Jenny up instantly. "I came back that night but you were already gone on your little adventure with one of the CIA's most wanted criminals. Next thing I know, I call your cell and DiNozzo tells me you're dead. Then, months after, some CIA gal announces to us that you're alive and it would be really great if we investigated a Marine's murder to get you out of the mess they got you into. Don't tell me how I should be feeling!"

"Sorry to be such a nuisance to you. If being here is bothering you so much, you can always leave," Jenny retorted nastily.

"Is that the only thing you retained from what I said?" It was Gibbs' turn to shake his head in disbelief.

"I don't care about what you said, I came here because I wanted us to have a chance to talk like grown-ups. I wanted to tell you that today I went to see my Ob-Gyn and everything is fine with the baby, with OUR son, and I wanted to give you this," she enlightened him as she pulled out the copy of the ultrasound. "But I guess you don't care about that," she added as she let the picture fall on the ground before leaving the room in a hurry.

Gibbs swore violently in the empty room, before head-slapping himself. Yesterday, the fleeting contact outside the interrogation room had literally prevented him from thinking but everything had come back during the night and nothing could have stopped him from opening his big mouth. He picked up the picture, studying it for a while and blinking rapidly as the memory of other ultrasound pictures resurfaced. He noticed that he could see much more details now and he felt like he could almost touch the baby.

_Our son_, Jenny had said. Our son. He hadn't seen any right eye twitching. She was completely sincere; it was their son and it made him feel even worse for what he had thrown at her. He wasn't able to dwell on it any longer for Monica stormed in the room.

"I knew this wasn't a good idea. The only thing I asked from you was to not screw it up and by that I also meant, don't upset her. No, you let me talk," Monica threatened him as the Special Agent opened his mouth.

"You have no idea what she's been through, you have no idea how she struggled to survive. I spent some time with her when she was in the hospital. You can't imagine the nightmares she had, it was so awful for me to watch. I don't want to think how it must have been for her. She was always calling out for you, asking for your help. Sometimes I think she even saw you dead and, if you had seen her distress at that moment, you would never have doubted her loyalty, her sincerity or her feelings for you. This baby she's carrying, the doctors gave him no chance. They were sure she would miscarry, because of the blood loss, because of the stress her body was under, but she didn't. Her child is the only thing holding her up, the only thing she thinks she has left and she wanted to share it with you. I don't care about what happened between you two before this mission, I don't care that you resent her for letting you think she was dead. I don't give a damn. Right now she needs the people who care about her to support and help her go through with this assignment. She needs you, Gibbs. She needs her partner and if you can't do this, you're of no use to me or to her."

Gibbs looked like he had been slapped in the face and then punched in the stomach. Like Jenny had done a while ago, he stormed out of the room, needing to collect his thoughts away from this place.

He wandered without any goal and finally found himself on the Pont des Arts, near the Louvre and he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed a silhouette he would recognize anywhere - even with the changes it had known lately. He was trying to decide what to do when his cellphone went off loud enough for the woman to hear and she turned towards him.

* * *

><p>AN: Here it is, I would really love to hear your thoughts :-)


	6. Chapter 5: Taking chances

A/N: Well, only a day late this time, I'm improving! I will try to update this story on Wednesdays but please don't throw tomatoes if I'm late!

Thanks to everyone who read, follow and favorite this story and a big shout out to JibbsGal1, Sparky She-Demon, left my heart in paris, ladybugsmomma, AnnabelleVictoria (couldn't answer to your review because your PM is disabled but I really appreciated it) and Tempe4Booth for their wonderful reviews.

The song for this one is Fix you by Coldplay.

Hope you enjoy :-)

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5: Taking chances<span>

* * *

><p><em>Previously on Everything has a price:<em>

_Gibbs wandered without any goal and finally found himself on the Pont des Arts, near the Louvre and he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed a silhouette he would recognize anywhere - even with the changes it had known lately. He was trying to decide what to do when his cellphone went off loud enough for the woman to hear and she turned towards him._

* * *

><p><strong>November 30th, 2008 3:00 pm<strong>

**Pont des Arts, Paris, France**

Gibbs picked up without looking away from Jenny. "Yeah, Gibbs," he all but snapped in the phone, his expression softening a bit only when he heard Abby's voice.

He let her ramble for a minute before saying he would be there soon and cut off her protests by hanging up on her. He approached Jenny slowly, unable to decipher the look in her eyes. Her face was completely blank. When he was finally standing right next to her, he leaned on the guardrail.

She watched him warily before copying his position.

"Something new about the case?" Jenny asked and Gibbs nodded. "You should go then," he nodded again but he didn't move.

He took the ultrasound picture she gave him out of his pocket.

"You said 'our son'," Gibbs choked a bit on the words, his throat feeling constricted.

"So, you were listening," Jenny replied, looking straight ahead towards the Pont Neuf and l'Ile de la Cité, suddenly unable to look at the picture and see Jethro's reaction to it.

"It would have been hard to miss it," Gibbs whispered, teasing a bit and was relieved when a small smile appeared on Jenny's lips.

"Our fights have always been spectacular, I don't see any reason for that to change," Jenny teased back. She grew a bit more serious as she added," I shouldn't have slapped you though."

"No, on the contrary, you were right. I deserved it," he said causing Jenny to raise her eyebrows in surprise.

She observed him closely and then smiled, nodding knowingly. "Monica set you straight, didn't she? What did she tell you?"

"What makes you…" he started but seeing the way she raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, he knew there would be no point in trying to deny it. "Yeah, she may have said a thing or two," he admitted finally.

"Well, whatever she said, I'm glad it got through to you. It's strange, I think Monica is the only CIA agent who doesn't hold a grudge against me. I think she may even like me," the once redhead said in wonder.

Jethro nodded, "She seems to care about you and admire you."

"I really don't see why. She has everything. She does the job she has always wanted to, she has been married for twenty years with a man she loves more than anything and who accepts what she does. She has two children who don't resent her for the secrets surrounding her job. I would give anything to have what she has," Jenny declared and Gibbs was more than a little surprised at the admission. "Don't tell me you don't have some regrets of your own. I wouldn't believe you. I'm just saying if I had the chance, I would do things differently. If it hadn't been for Monica and her team, I would have died alone in that diner. No one should die alone, Jethro," she stopped there, unable to say more and he took one of her hands in his and squeezed it, conveying as much support as he could give.

"You should have called me, Jen. No matter what had happened, no matter if you were trying to protect me, you should have called me. I'm your partner, always will be, even when I'm an ass, even when you're pissed. We're partners and when you need backup, I will always be there." He had never meant anything as much as he did right now, and Jenny choked back a sob.

"Why couldn't you tell me that six months ago?" she asked, not really expecting an answer but he surprised her again by giving her one.

"I wish I had, Jen. I wish I had."

They stayed silent for a while, trying to remember the last time they had shared a moment like this one. Gibbs could see Jenny caressing her bump and he reached out with his hands slowly, giving her time to realize what he was trying to do. She raised her head towards him, and he asked silent permission which she granted.

Holding his breath, he let Jenny guide his hands to where he would feel the baby move. An indescribable feeling filled him as he felt the strong kicks of his son against his own skin. _His son, their son_. After Kelly's death, he never thought he would have another child; honestly, he had never wanted another child. The pain of losing his little girl too overwhelming, too consuming to even think about having another child. It had caused more than one fight with his ex-wives, and he found it more than a little ironic that it was the woman with whom he had never discussed the possibility of having children, who was expecting his child.

"He's very active but at least he follows my schedule. He usually sleeps when I do," Jenny explained, as she watched closely Jethro's expression. Awe, amazement and a flicker of something that looked like nostalgia passed on his face and her heart broke a bit when she remembered that the last time he did this it was when Shannon was pregnant with Kelly.

A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away before he could see it but of course, that was too hopeful of her. He frowned at the tear, but she shook her head.

"The hormones are awful. It wreaks havoc with my brain, sometimes I don't even know what I'm doing!" she said, hoping it would be enough to prevent him from digging.

He nodded and then, unexpectedly, he lowered his forehead until it was touching hers. He closed his eyes, breathing her in.

"You have to go, don't you?" she whispered and he reopened his eyes, kissed her forehead and murmured a, "Take care of the two of you," before he left, forcing himself not to look back.

Jenny sighed, understanding that it was probably too much for him. She watched him walk away until he was lost in the crowd. She decided to go back to the Embassy and have someone drive her back to the apartment.

* * *

><p><strong>November 30th, 2008 3:45 pm<strong>

**Laboratoire de Police scientifique de Paris, 3 quai de l'Horloge, Île de la Cité**

When he entered the section of the lab Abby was working in, Gibbs could see that the whole team, including Ducky and Palmer, was here, watching his every move while pretending not to. He had two coffee cups with him; one for him and one he gave Abby.

"What do you got, Abs?" he asked softly, daring anyone to ask where he was.

"We got the DNA results back for the blood we found on the victim's ring. The guy is in the system. It's the victim's brother-in-law, Arnaud Richard," Abby explained, showing the match on the computer's screen.

McGee took over. "We also got a hit on other cases where a CZ vz. 27 was used and where 7.65 Browning cartridges were found. We found three. In two of them the victims were drug dealers, and for the last one it was a pimp. Arnaud Richard was a suspect at some point in all three cases, but he was never convicted. I also found out that Richard's maternal grandfather was in the Czechoslovakian police. The gun could have been passed to him through his grandfather."

"It's very difficult to obtain a firearm license in France, Gibbs. Like impossible if you're not a cop or a bodyguard and Richard was never busted for illegal possession of a firearm so unless he was dumb enough to keep the gun…" Abby trailed off.

"We probably won't find anything if we search his place," Gibbs completed, frowning.

Abby nodded then displayed on the screen the photo of one of the set of footprints found on the scene. "The other footprints weren't specific enough to give us anything but this one had a very recognizable logo on the sole. I contacted the company's headquarters in Florence. The model is a limited edition, very expensive and sold exclusively in the Paris store. Only three pairs were sold since it's been on the market. One of them was bought by Jonathan Smith."

"He was there, Gibbs. They were both there," Ziva concluded but Gibbs shook his head and exchanged a look with Ducky.

"I see the problem, Jethro. That is circumstantial evidence. Arnaud Richard can argue that he fought with his brother-in-law another day and Jonathan Smith could have been at the Bois de Boulogne anytime. Agent Stones won't let you talk to any of them without something more solid. I am not even sure you could obtain a search warrant," the medical examiner explained.

Gibbs sighed. "What did you find, Duck?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. He died from a single gunshot to the heart, point-blank range but not a contact shot. I found some defensive wounds on his fists, but some were recent, right before his death, while others were already healing. It suggests at least two fistfights. Other than that, toxicology was clean. His blood samples were perfectly normal. I know you don't like this, Jethro, but we have to share our findings with Agent Stones and decide with her what is the proper course of action," Ducky finished, looking at Gibbs over his glasses.

"You're right about that," Gibbs said, shaking his head again. "I really don't like it."

* * *

><p><strong>November 30th, 2008 4:00 pm<strong>

**Gwen Stafford and Jonathan Smith's apartment, Rue Galilée, 8e arrondissement, Paris, France**

As Jenny was getting off the elevator, she couldn't shake out of her head one of the songs she had heard in the car. She wasn't sure if it was because of her encounter with Gibbs or because of the turn her life had taken but the lyrics had struck a chord.

_When you try your best but you don't succeed_

_When you get what you want but not what you need_

_When you feel so tired but you can't sleep_

_Stuck in reverse_

_When the tears come streaming down your face_

_When you lose something you can't replace_

_When you love someone but it goes to waste_

_Could it be worse?_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

_High up above or down below_

_When you're too in love to let it go_

_If you never try you'll never know_

_Just what you're worth_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

_Tears come streaming down your face_

_When you lose something you cannot replace_

_Tears come streaming down your face_

_And I_

_Tears come streaming down your face_

_I promise you I will learn from all my mistakes_

_Tears come streaming down your face_

_And I_

_Lights will guide you home _

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

Jenny shook her head as she replayed the lyrics in her head once more. She took a deep breath and opened the door as silently as possible. She had seen Jonathan's car parked in the street. It was strange for him to be home so early, and she hoped she would learn something useful.

She had already taken off her shoes and padded into the apartment. She could hear Jonathan talking on his cell phone.

"Arnaud, je te conseille de faire ce que je te dis, je peux te faire tomber pour ce meurtre et je n'hésiterais pas. Il vaut mieux pour toi que tu prennes cet avion et que tu te fasse oublier quelques temps. Je te recontacterais bientôt. Prend cet avion."

Jenny understood at once what this conversation was about and looking more closely she saw that Jonathan was wearing gloves and was holding a gun in his hands. It wasn't his; she knew for sure he didn't keep weapons in the apartment. She had searched it enough times.

She retreated back to the door and entered the apartment normally, making sufficient noise to give Jonathan time to hide the weapon. She would have to tell Monica and Jethro about this first thing in the morning.

* * *

><p>Translation: "Arnaud, I advise you to do as I said, I can bring you down for this murder and I won't hesitate to do so. It would be better for you to take that plane and keep a low profile. I will contact you soon. Get on that plane."<p> 


	7. Chapter 6: Capital Offence

**A/N: I'm really past the point of being forgiven for taking so long to update, am I? I can't say how sorry I am but so many things happened in the past couple of months that writing really took a backseat. As it is, it took a trip to London to bring my muse back, most of the Gibbs' part of this chapter was written on the plane to London and at London City Airport. Anyway, a big thank you to JibbsGal1 for still being there to beta my stories and a big shot-out to ParisNeverEnded, lolaughoutloud123, miss-elinor, , hopesmom, left my heart in Paris, ladybugsmomma and JibbsGal1 for reviewing the previous chapter.**

**Now I hope you're still interested in this story and will continue to enjoy it!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6: Capital Offence<span>

_So far away from where you are_

_These miles have torn us worlds apart_

_And I miss you, yeah, I miss you_

_So far away from where you are_

_And standing underneath the stars_

_And I wish you were here_

_I miss the years that were erased_

_I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face_

_I miss all the little things_

_I never thought that they'd mean everything to me_

_Yeah, I miss you and I wish you were here_

_I feel the beating of your heart_

_I see the shadows of your face_

_Just know that wherever you are_

_Yeah, I miss you and I wish you were here_

_I miss the years that were erased_

_I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face_

_I miss all the little things_

_I never thought that they'd mean everything to me_

_Yeah, I miss you and I wish you were here_

_So far away from where you are_

_These miles have torn us worlds apart_

_And I miss you, yeah, I miss you_

_And I wish you were here_

From Where You Are by Lifehouse

* * *

><p><strong>December 15th, 2008 8:00 am<strong>

**United States Ambassador to France's residence, rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, Paris, France**

For 10 days, they had been looking for Arnaud Richard without success. Vance had already ordered Gibbs and the team to come back stateside several times, but, each time, the Marine-turned-special-agent had made it perfectly clear that this case wasn't anywhere near closed before either slamming the phone down or cutting the feed angrily. The unsaid subtext was that he had no intention to come back without Jenny but, of course, Vance didn't know about that.

Both Monica and Gibbs had called in several favors to track down their target, and it was one of Monica's contacts who finally located Richard, who was hiding somewhere in Panama.

That was five days ago. Since then, they had been monitoring his movements waiting for the right time and negotiating with the local authorities, since France and Panama did not have an extradition treaty but Panama and the United States did.

It hadn't been easy for Gibbs. The last time he had seen Jenny was the day after their encounter on the Pont des Arts. She had given them pictures of the gun Jonathan was keeping in his safe back at the apartment.

Abby confirmed the same type of gun had been used for the murder but without proper analysis, she couldn't say more than that. Unfortunately, it was too risky to take the gun out of the safe for now.

Jenny was currently on maternity leave and regular visits to the Embassy would seem suspicious. She could only give updates to Monica with her burn phone, and it wasn't anywhere near enough for Jethro.

His frustration at the whole situation was reaching a boiling point, and he was taking it out on his team. Which was why everyone welcomed with relief the arrival of Arnaud Richard at Paris-Charles de Gaulle Airport in the early afternoon.

As Gibbs approached the dining room where the team was already having their breakfast, he stopped just outside, hearing Tony say his name.

"I hope Gibbs is gonna relax a bit when we have Richard off the plane. I thought he was going to literally bite my head off yesterday. I've never seen him like this, even when Kate died…" he trailed off. No matter how much time had passed since their friend and colleague was killed, it was still painful to talk about it.

"Well, Tony, maybe you should have thought twice before wondering out loud if the baby's father is actually Jonathan Smith or Gibbs!" Ziva answered her partner curtly, and Gibbs could imagine her rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"Well, it's not like I wanted him to hear it; it's not my fault if he arrived just at that moment!" Tony replied childishly.

"You should know by now that Gibbs is magic, he has superpowers and he always knows when someone is talking about him. He is probably going to appear right now to headslap you…" Abby announced in a dramatic tone and Gibbs smirked as everyone fell silent, waiting anxiously for him to show up.

"His radar must be off," Tony said. "Anyway, it was a legitimate question…" Everyone groaned at that.

"Tony, not again!" McGee exclaimed. "It isn't any of our business…"

"Oh come on, McSpoilsport. Aren't you the least bit curious?" DiNozzo insisted, cutting McGee off. "I mean, this is better than a movie! You've got the spies, the girl in distress and the hero trying to save her, a villain a la James Bond, a team of super smart agents! We could win an Academy Award for staring in a film like that! And do you seriously think we would still be here if there wasn't more going on. Ducky, you're the one who knows Gibbs the best. What do you think?" he asked, turning towards the M.E.

"I think you should have to listened to Timothy. This isn't our business, Anthony, and it won't do anyone any good if we get involved." The unusual sternness of his tone seemed to be enough to shut Tony up and put an end to the debate.

Gibbs waited a few more moments before finally entering the room and pretending he hadn't just heard his team discussing his very private life.

* * *

><p><strong>December 15th, 2008 1:00 pm<strong>

**Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport, France**

As they were not so patiently waiting for the plane transporting Arnaud Richard to land, the team was observing Gibbs in a way they thought was inconspicuous. They were convinced he had heard their conversation over breakfast this morning; his timing had been too impeccable, even for Gibbs. What they couldn't possibly understand was why they still had their jobs when discussing the Boss' private life was pretty much a capital offense punished by the death penalty.

"Maybe, he's waiting for tonight to murder us in our sleep," Tony had suggested. The mere thought had caused McGee and Palmer to shudder, while Ziva rolled her eyes at her partner's antics for what seemed to be the twentieth time that day.

Finally, they were given the signal that the next plane was the one they were expecting. A French police officer, carrying their arrest warrant, which they had gone through a lot of trouble to obtain, was accompanying them. They would arrest Richard on the plane, not giving him any chance to flee. They joined the ground crew and the second the door opened they were inside and marching straight to seat 13C to the astonishment of all the passengers who were wondering why they weren't allowed to get off. The French officer read him his rights and then Gibbs took over.

"Mr. Richard, you're a hard man to find. We've got a few questions to ask you. We'll escort you to the police station," Gibbs announced, and the carefully controlled rage in his voice made everyone understand that their prime suspect was about to endure a very, very bad time. Tony couldn't help but smirk; better him than them.

* * *

><p><strong>December 15th, 2008 2:00 pm<strong>

**36 Quai des Orfèvres, Ile de la Cité, 1****er**** arrondissement, Paris, France**

In a move that surprised everyone, Gibbs and Monica agreed to conduct the interview together, and they seemed to be pretty in-tune, rapidly bringing Richard where they wanted him. The French man made it easier by refusing to be assisted by a lawyer and Gibbs suspected that, if it was the same attorney who had gotten him out of trouble when he had been accused before, then it must mean he was working for Jonathan Smith and was looking after his interests rather than Richard's.

"You left so rapidly we never had a chance to question you about your brother-in-law's death. Why were you in such a hurry to get away from us, Mr. Richard?" Monica asked.

"It had nothing to do with that. I had some business to attend to, that's all," he replied in a heavily accented English.

"It couldn't wait a few days or be done by someone else? Seems strange you would leave your sister alone to grieve," Gibbs inquired.

"I was the only one who could deal with this … business." Neither of the agents missed the slight hesitation when he said that last word. "I don't think I would have been much help to Michelle anyway. I never understood why she married that guy; we never got along…" he trailed off, seeming all at once stunned by this admission and angry at himself for making it. "I mean, I didn't hate the guy but he just didn't seem right for my sister," he struggled to find the right words, trying not to dig himself a deeper hole.

"Yes, we get it. You won't cry over him but what we would really like to know is, did you really leave to attend to some business, as you previously stated, or did you want to avoid answering uncomfortable questions about the reason why we found some of your blood on your brother-in-law's ring?" Monica asked, showing him the picture of Frank Driscoll's left hand, wearing the ring in question.

Their suspect paled, his eyes widening slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about," he answered assertively, after a minute.

"Your DNA is in the system, and the results have been checked, so you're gonna have to be a bit more convincing," Gibbs retorted, smirking.

"Yes, well, we fought a few times. We both tend to say stupid things when we have a bit too much to drink, so we settle things with our fists but I didn't kill him!" Richard conceded in a strong voice, almost shouting.

"Your grandfather was in the Czechoslovakian police, wasn't he?" Gibbs asked suddenly, throwing Richard off with this 360° turn to the conversation. He studied his two interrogators for a moment, and it seemed to them he was using all his self-control not to squirm in his seat, as it was dawning on him he probably wouldn't be able to get out of this situation unscathed. Finally, he nodded slowly.

"He was, yes, although I don't see why it's relev…"

"Strange coincidence, since the gun used to kill your brother-in-law was a CZ vz. 27, commonly used by the Czechoslovakian police. This gun to be precise," Monica bluffed, showing him the picture Jenny had taken of the firearm Jonathan Smith was keeping in his safe.

"You know, if there is one thing I don't believe in, it's coincidences," Gibbs added, and this time Arnaud Richard couldn't hide his surprise and panic at seeing the picture.

"The bastard sold me out!" he murmured, running his hand through his hair nervously as he tried to think quickly of a new defense tactic. "Okay, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, but I want a deal and I'm going to need protection. What he told you, it's not true. I didn't do it alone, and I'm not the big fish here!"

Gibbs and Monica realized that Richard thought his employer and their real target, Jonathan Smith, had given them the evidences. That opportunity was too good to pass up.

"You're gonna have to be pretty convincing. It's not our policy to deal with terrorists," Gibbs stated and the French man gulped.

"You really want to hear what I have to say, I assure you," he replied, somewhat shakily.

"Then tell us and we'll see what we can do for you," Monica intervened, trying to hide the eagerness in her voice. She had never been as close to achieve the goal of her mission as she was now.

Arnaud Richard took a deep breath, gathering his courage and then launched into his story. He told them how when he was in prison, he had found himself sharing a cell with a guy working for Smith, his sister's boss, and that the guy could protect him if he agreed to help him with some business he ran with some other inmates. How when he got out, Smith knew all about him and wanted to help him get his life together, as he said. He could give him an honest job, but Richard had quickly realized it came with a price and that Smith wasn't just a drug dealer.

"I felt like I had sold my soul to the devil, and there was nothing I could do about it," Richard had stated.

Afraid for his sister and for himself, he had obeyed his boss' bidding and after a while he had started to enjoy the power that gave him. Until Smith told him he wanted his brother-in-law to join them at whatever cost, against Arnaud's advice. Richard knew perfectly well Driscoll would never agree to work for Smith. He was too honorable for that, living as he did by the Marine code. All hell had broken loose when Driscoll had gotten curious and discovered that his wife was somehow involved in the organization as well. A meeting in the Bois de Boulogne had turned into a fight between Driscoll and Richard and the gun the latter was holding with his bare hands-having taken off his gloves to punch his brother-in-law harder- had fallen on the ground. Smith had picked it up and shot Driscoll, not giving a damn if Richard would get hit or not. Arnaud's prints being the only one on the gun, it was clear that it was in his best interests to keep his mouth shut but guilt started gnawing at him when he faced his sister's grief. Smith's order to leave the country and lay low until the whole mess was over was almost a welcome one.

"Then why did you come back? It doesn't make much sense; you were taking a huge risk," Monica asked, frowning, giving voice to the thought that was also swirling in Gibbs' mind.

"Because I heard he is giving a party tonight to celebrate his engagement with all the most important people working in his organization. I wasn't invited but my second-in-command is. He is going to replace me, I couldn't let that happen," Richard replied bitterly.

Gibbs' eyebrows shot up in surprise at the statement. "Engagement?" he repeated, praying he had heard it wrong.

Richard nodded. "Yes, he got some woman pregnant, and now he asked her to marry him. I never thought he was the type. I wish her good luck; she has no idea what she is getting herself into!" he declared, shaking his head. Gibbs had stopped paying attention to him and was glaring at Monica instead, who was doing her best to avoid looking at him.

"Where is this party taking place?" she asked, almost squirming as she felt Gibbs' intense and angry stare.

"At his jewelry store," Richard answered and Monica nodded.

"We're going to need a list of the people you think are the most likely to be there and their status in the organization," she added and Richard hesitated again. "Look you already told us everything about your boss but OUR bosses won't be satisfied if we don't hand them the asses of everyone involved. Besides, if others talk, it's going to be much harder to guess who was the first leak, don't you think?"

Richard still looked skeptical but he knew he was trapped. He had been the moment the agents had arrested him on that plane. So with a long sigh, he wrote down the list.

"Well, I think we have everything we need, thank you for your assistance, Mr. Richard," the CIA agent said, gathering the papers and pictures that had been spread out on the table, as she and Gibbs stood up.

"Wait, you will get me a deal, won't you? After everything I told you, I must be able to get something out of it," Richard yelled after them in a panicked tone.

"You just confessed to four murders; one of your victims was a decorated United States Marine and you stated you were involved in drug traffic and terrorist activities. The best deal we can get you is to find you a cell in a high security prison where you will spend the rest of your days, without contact with anyone since your boss will likely pay some men to kill you when he finds out you're the one who sold him out to the CIA," Gibbs retorted. He left the room, holding the door open for Monica, not even bothering to look back as Arnaud Richard let his head fall on the table with a resounding thud.

* * *

><p><strong>December 15th, 2008 7:00 pm<strong>

**Gwen Stafford and Jonathan Smith's apartment, Rue Galilée, 8e arrondissement, Paris, France**

As Gibbs, Monica and the team were planning the surveillance of the party and how they would arrest the guests without Jonathan Smith noticing, Jenny was getting ready for said party. She wasn't sure she was quite realizing that it was supposed to be a party celebrating her engagement; she was focusing more on the fact that for the first time she would be in close contact with Jonathan's associates and it was probably her only opportunity to garner as much information as she could. She had only learned about it a few hours ago but she had immediately contacted Monica and she was worried that her CIA handler had not gotten back to her yet.

She looked at her image in the mirror. She had let her hair down, having succeeded in taming the brown curls. She had opted for simple make up - a light blue eye shadow, some blush and the Chanel Rouge Allure Luminous Satin Lip Colour lipstick she had favored when she and Jethro were partners. She shivered slightly at the thought of her former lover, partner and the father of the child she was carrying.

She lifted her left hand and looked at the engagement ring Jonathan had proposed with. It was a magnificent piece, which he had designed for her: two rows of diamonds on a white gold band joining a central rose flower, also entirely covered in diamonds. The tiniest movement of her hand attracted the light and the eyes as Jonathan had intended. As gorgeous as the ring was though, Jenny found it way too flashy for her liking. Maybe it was connected to the fact that she knew Jethro, the only man she had ever considered marrying, would never offer her something like that. He knew her too well. However, her alias Gwen Stafford was perfectly content with it and, at the moment, it was what really mattered. At least, that was what she was trying to tell herself. Lately, it was becoming more and more difficult to pretend, especially since she had shared that moment with Gibbs on the bridge but she didn't really have a choice. That's why she had accepted Jon's proposal; she couldn't afford to let him have any doubt about her feelings, about her identity, about her real motives to have reentered his life after the days they spent together at the spa resort.

She heard a knock on the bathroom door, and she saw the reflection of Jonathan's head popping through the half-open door.

"Are you all right, darling?" he asked her, his eyes traveling slowly from her head to her toes, almost devouring her as she was standing in only her underwear. It was strange how he could still make her feel desirable, even in her current state.

She flashed him a smile. "Almost ready. I just need some clothes now, unless you want me to show up dressed, or rather undressed, like this?" she replied coyly.

"You know I love to show you off but I rather like to think that seeing you like this is my privilege and I don't do well with sharing. You may have noticed that?" Jon countered back, and Jenny was eerily reminded of a similar conversation she had had with another man, a lifetime ago, in this very same city. She bit her lip and fought the urge to shake her head to stay focused on the present. She watched as Jonathan hanged a garment bag behind the door.

"Speaking of clothes, I think you will like what's in this bag," he added, before closing the door.

She approached the bag curiously and opened it slowly, revealing a floor length, cerulean gown of a silk-chiffon material. She pulled it out of the bag and held it in front of her, turning back to the mirror. The gown was sleeveless, the shoulder straps decorated with silver sequins. The bust would accentuate her cleavage but the rest was looser and she would feel comfortable not having the dress clinging to her bump. She found the concealed zip and hook fastenings at the side and her years of practice made it easy for her to put it on and close it effortlessly. It fitted perfectly and, not for the first time, Jenny wondered how Jon had managed to find something that seemed made for her.

She opened the bathroom door and found a pair of shoes; flat, as she could no longer walk in high heels, black suede pointed shoes with gunmetal stud trim detail. She sat down on the bed to put them on and joined Jonathan in the living-room.

The moment she entered the room, he turned towards her and she took a guilty pleasure at seeing the glazed look in his eyes and the way his jaw seemed to drop. He puffed out a breath and approached her.

"You look absolutely stunning. You're going to be the star of this show," he murmured, gazing intensely at her.

"You don't look too bad yourself in your tuxedo," she whispered back, making him smile.

"There is something missing though," he said as he pulled a jewelry box out of his jacket pocket. He turned her around and fastened a necklace around her neck. Looking down to study it, she audibly gasped.

"Jonathan, you're completely crazy," she exclaimed, turning back towards him, taking in her hand the topaz stone surrounded by diamonds pendant. "I can't accept this; the ring was already too much and now this!"

He placed a finger against her lips to shush her. "It's a gift I'm giving to the woman who agreed to marry me and who's carrying my child. If it's not reasons enough to go crazy, then I don't see what is," he said, and Jenny's familiar pang of guilt returned at the mention of the baby's paternity.

She nodded and he smiled at her, settling his hands on her bump and enjoying the baby's kicks for a few moments. It gave Jenny enough time to regain control.

"Now we better get a move on or we're going to be late and it wouldn't do to be late to our own party, would it?" Jon said as he steered her towards the door and helped her into her coat. Just before he opened the door though, he turned towards her and asked, "Are you sure you're up for this? It's going to be a long night." Rather than answer, she kissed him, trying to convey as much reassurance as she could while trying not to think about the fact that the man she really wanted to kiss at that moment wasn't here.

* * *

><p>AN: I know, I know, no Jibbs scene in this chapter but be patient, they will be back!

You can find a link to see what Jenny's wearing in my profile.

What did you think?


End file.
